


Little Moments

by selfishmachxne



Category: Free!
Genre: Enjoy friends, Fluff, M/M, Makoto and Haru in college, Makoto coaching Haru, Romance, sick haru
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-19 09:32:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2383421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selfishmachxne/pseuds/selfishmachxne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Makoto was almost worse than a coddling parent when someone needed to be taken care of, and there would be no end to the fury of his tender forehead kisses and gentle massages.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Moments

**Author's Note:**

> After the season finale, I just really needed to write some MakoHaru fluff of them in college, so here it is. Enjoy! Any feedback is gladly appreciated.

Lost in peaceful dreams and quiet snores, Makoto slept soundly on his side, clutching a pillow closely, his mouth gaping and his chest slowly rising up and down. He slept well, granted that wasn’t hard to do with piles of homework, endless papers that just had to be completed merely a few days after being assigned, a bit of time to spend thumbing through pages of novels and textbooks, and going through his illegible notes of squiggles he could have sworn were words when he was writing them. The night had been quiet, no horrid dreams or blaring noises to disrupt the man’s slumber. And then the morning came.

His eyes began pressing together, his brows furrowed, and when his lids finally fluttered open, the continuous beeps of the alarm clock caused him to roll onto his back and sigh. After rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Makoto looked over to the other man sleeping soundly on the opposite side of the room. Turning off the alarm, a soft laugh slipped free from Makoto’s lips, his eyes staring fondly at the bundle of blankets his roommate was wrapped into.

Haru never woke with the alarm. He had always been a heavy sleeper. He would wake at the sounds of a thunderstorm or glass breaking, sure, but he could sleep through any alarm clock the world had to throw at him. Makoto had always found that amusing. That, and the fact Haruka always buried himself in a sea of sheets before even closing his eyes. Looking at him now, he resembled something of a silkworm cocoon.

“Haru…” Makoto mused quietly, slipping out of his bed and beginning to walk over to the other. There was no response. Makoto could have sworn Haru was part dead when  
he slept. Maybe his soul crept into the Underworld for a few hours each night.

“Haru…” Makoto’s hand set on Haru’s shoulder, shaking it gently, eyes watching steadily as the sheets began to wriggle; the sound of a muffled groan emitted from the comforter.

Makoto simply rolled his eyes, though his smile still remained, and Makoto climbed into Haru’s bed, settling himself on his side to face Haru. He set a soft kiss to Haru’s forehead, lying back and taking a moment to admire each of his features. His fair skin could be made out in the dark of the room, his lips held in a thin pout of defiance. His dark hair was tangled and sprawled about the pillow case, tousled and knotted from just how much Haru managed to toss and turn throughout the night no matter how serene his rest was. Makoto truly hated waking the other; he hated disturbing the almost angelic tranquility that was cast over his face. “Haru, sweetheart… Gotta get up… Time for practice…” Another groan. “Nanase Haruka.” That time there was no softness in his tone. A stern full-name card normally got him a response at the very least.

“Five more minutes…”

With a soft snicker, Makoto began peppering soft kisses about the other’s face, a smile thrilling on the ends of Haru’s lips ashe struggled to fight it off, the soft skin of Makoto’s lips tickling his cheeks. “C’mon… Up…”

“Mmmgh…”

Makoto pressed a brief kiss to the other’s lips, causing Haru’s nose scrunch in response.

“Your morning breath is terrible.” His voice seemed to pour from his lips, thick from sleep, slow, and steady, like molasses. And though his statement said otherwise, heat spread throughout his face and his heart fluttered in his chest at the simple feeling of Makoto’s lips against his.

“Yeah, yours isn’t much better,” Makoto jabbed back, a smile stretching over his face. “Now, come on. Coach Oshiro is gonna kill you if you’re late again.”

“Yes, Coach Tachibana-kun,” Haru drawled, sitting himself up and stealing another brief kiss.

“It’s too early for your sarcasm. Go brush your teeth.”

“Mm…” Haruka pressed his back against the wall, peeking an eye over to Makoto before lazily raising his arms, letting his hands remain limp.

Green eyes rolled once again as Makoto brought himself to his feet. “You’re hopeless, you know,” he mused softly, though no offense was meant by his words. In fact, he spoke them warmly, endearingly as he caught onto the other’s body language before his arms were even fully extended. Makoto slipped an arm underneath Haru’s legs, the other under his shoulders, before he pulled Haru into his arms. Haru’s head instantly pressed against Makoto’s chest. “You’ll wake up once you get into the water.”  
Haru heaved a sigh, far too exhausted for any civil conversation at four in the morning.

Makoto set Haru on his feet, watching after him as Haru stumbled to the counter and grabbed his toothbrush, pressed some toothpaste onto it, and began to swivel the toothbrush about his mouth.

“Aren’t you going to change into your—”

Haru used his free hand to pull at the hem of his pants, revealing the swimsuit already on his body.

“Why do I even bother asking?” Haru didn’t answer, he only handed Makoto’s toothbrush over to him in hopes to rid the man of that horrid breath.

 

 

With the click of his stopwatch, Makoto’s eyes flickered back up to Haru who was panting heavily and erratically, pressing his forehead against the wall to try to keep the room from spinning. Makoto crouched down, brows furrowed as he rested his elbows on his knees. “You alright?”  
A shake of the other’s head is accompanied with more ragged breathing.

“Feel like I’m… Gonna… Puke…”

“Come on, Haru, we’re almost done… Take a breather and—”

“Tachibana!” A loud squeal left the young man as Coach Oshiro’s hand clapped onto his back. Makoto set a hand to his heart, a breath of relief leaving him as he took note of Oshiro’s presence, though his cheeks colored at the man’s howling laughter. “That never gets old…”

“Never,” Makoto echoed, his eyes narrowed, the word coming out in a single, breathy sigh.

Oshiro was definitely a lively soul. With enough energy and charisma to fill the entire swimming pool and every athlete in it, it was no wonder why he was the head coach of the university. His eyes were brown, but never dull. Something told Makoto he and Sasabe would get along well. And he knew to stay on the man’s good side as well. Not only had Makoto been the witness of his fiery rage and harsh lectures, but this was also the man that would be writing up his recommendations when he applied for whatever coaching jobs he could scrounge up.

With another long breath, Makoto took the coffee being offered to him. “Yes, Oshiro-san?” Oshiro didn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around Makoto’s neck in something of a gentle headlock.

“How’s our superstar doing?”

“Fine…” Makoto quietly tucked the stopwatch into the pocket of his jacket. It was an off day for Haru, and Makoto understood that. Maybe he wasn’t being as much of a hardass as Oshiro would have wanted.

Oshiro only narrowed his eyes. So they did turn dull; they turned dull when he knew someone was bullshitting him. “That so?” A small nod.

“Nanase?” Haru’s head perked up to look at Oshiro, and the coach instantly saw the almost green tint of the young man’s skin. “You look like hell.” Another nod of agreement. With a huff, Oshiro turned to Makoto with something in his eyes that made Makoto raise his hands in defense and take a full step back. The hairs on the man’s chin seemed to stick up, like static electricity was running up and down the finely trimmed goatee. But that look was quickly replaced by a wide grin, cheeks flushed with a dopey pink that only meant pure joy. “You’ve worked him sick! I knew you had it in you, Tachibana!”

“O—Oshiro-san, maybe that’s not such a—”

“Nonsense, nonsense! Keep up the good work!”

Sighing, shaking his head, and rolling his eyes for what most people would claim was likely unhealthy considering it was only seven in the morning, Makoto bent down again, his hand holding onto the diving block to balance himself on the balls of his feet. “Alright, back to business…” Setting his coffee down atop the block, he looked back at Haru with a warm smile. “You’re swimming from your shoulders again. Be sure to rotate from your hips and really stretch your arms out so you’re getting as much out of your stroke as you can.”

“Mhm.”

“Okay, one set left.”

“Yeah?”

“Fifteen one-hundreds.”

And Makoto swore that the look Haru gave him could kill.

 

 

It had always escaped Makoto just how lovely the Tokyo campus really was. Normally, he spent his time around the university trying to pin-point his destination on a map, running about in attempt to get to class on time with his horrible sense of direction. Even as a kid, he had always let Haru navigate. There was no way he could find his place without a cell phone and the practically God-sent invention of the GPS.

But in that moment he had no where to be, no deadlines to be met, and he found solace as he stood on the path walk, rocking back and forth on his heels and watching the cherry blossoms blow from the Sakura trees. His backpack was slung over one shoulder as he held the strap securely with his hand. Summer hadn’t ended just yet, so the sky was still an elegant blue, stray clouds splattered across it in thin strips. A content hum was pressed through his lips as he began to shift his weight from foot to foot, systematically checking his watch.

It was taking Haruka a bit longer today. Maybe he had gotten held up with papers again. He always had to have each paper sorted into a folder in a binder and aligned properly in his bag. Makoto couldn’t count how many times it caused him to walk out of class late, but Haru was never in a rush.

Catching the sight of a black head of hair from the corner of his eye, Makoto dropped his wrist and smiled. “There you are.”

“Here I am.” Haru’s voice seemed to leave him in a long sigh, blue gaze lacking its normal depth as it slid over to Makoto.

“Guess we better get going, then.”

The trek back to the apartment was complete with Makoto rambling on about the complexity of his physics class and Haru giving a few idle nods. Normally it wouldn’t have bothered Makoto to see the other silent, considering that’s how he was most of the time, but something about the boy at his side was off. As the brunette scanned the other, he couldn’t help but take into account how pale Haru looked. Even his lips were a faded petal pink verging on a tinted cream shade. Pulling the key from his back pocket, Makoto played with the lock a moment before the door finally opened with a soft click.

“Did you wanna make dinner, or should I— Haru!”

The moment his foot was in the door, Haruka made a beeline for the bathroom, pulling the toilet seat up in one fluid motion before his stomach lurched and acids poured from his mouth. Makoto quickly followed behind him, dropping to his knees and rubbing a hand in comforting circles at the base of Haru’s spine. There was no point in asking questions, because—clearly— Haru couldn’t answer. Makoto only watched closely with concerned green eyes, lips pulled into a frown.

By the time his stomach had emptied itself of vile, Haru’s head was pounding in his skull, his eyes dotted with stinging tears that managed to bring themselves to his eyes somewhere in the process. With a muffled whine, he leaned back, pressing the cover back down before pushing on the lever and hearing the distant flush.

“Are you alright?”

Haru cut a glare to the other, though it wasn’t harsh, simply irritated, because clearly he was not ‘alright’.

“Right, sorry…” Haru had to remind himself that Makoto couldn’t read minds. “Have you been feeling sick all day?” A solemn nod.

“Oh, and I gave you that regimen!” Makoto brought his hand to his forehead, shaking his head. “Oh, Haru, I am so sorry! I’ll make it up to you; I’ll—”

“Makoto…” If the glare wasn’t a clear indication of Haru’s annoyance, his tone of voice sure was. A part of him appreciated the concern, even if it was a bit excessive, but the worried ranting definitely wasn’t doing any good for his head. Bringing himself back to his feet, Haru quickly rinsed out his mouth and brushed the taste of vomit clean from his tongue. The moment he rinsed the toothpaste from his mouth, arms were lifting him, and his eyes widened a bit in surprise. “I’m still capable of walking, Makoto.”

“You weren’t this morning.”

“That’s different.”

“Shh. You’re gonna wear out your voice.”

“Makoto, I’m—”

“No you are not.” Maybe he could read minds. “You’re burning up and shaking, don’t you tell me you’re fine.”

A sigh of defeat fled from Haru, because he knew this wasn’t a battle he could win. Makoto was almost worse than a coddling parent when someone needed to be taken care of, and there would be no end to the fury of his tender forehead kisses and gentle massages. Instead of resisting, Haru only pressed his head against Makoto’s chest like he had done earlier that morning, ignoring the pinching, rocking sensation in his gut from each step the other took.  
Sitting himself on the bed, Makoto held Haru in his lap, reaching out one hand to grab the blanket on the end of his bed, draping it over Haru’s shoulders and quickly pulling it tightly around the boy. “Geez, Haru… You should’ve said something…”

“And have you blow everything out of proportion like you’re doing right now?”

“I’m not blowing things out of proportion, I’m taking care of you.”

“There’s no difference with the way you do it…”

A lighthearted chuckle bubbled its way up Makoto’s throat, and for a moment Haru thought it at least salved a bit of the pain swelling in his head. He buried his face into the crook of Makoto’s neck, and Makoto knit his brows from the heat. He set the back of his hand to Haru’s cheek. He was about to move to stand, but Haru groaned in protest, setting a loose fist to Makoto’s chest faintly. “Come on, Haru. I need to check your temperature.”

“No you don’t.”

“Haru.”

“Mmm…”

“Fine, fine. You win this round.” Sighing, Makoto leaned back into the headboard, pulling Haru a bit closer. His hand continued to trace little patterns along Haru’s back with the tips of his fingers in feather touches. And then came the tender forehead kiss Haru had been waiting for. “I love you…”

“I love you too.”

“Get some rest, Haru-chan…”

“I told you not to call me chan…” Even with chills racking down his back and hot flashes rendering him meak and feeble, Haru was still as stubborn as ever, and that fact made Makoto let out another ginger laugh.

“Guess you win that round too.”


End file.
